I feel like there used to be a time on the Internet when you couldn’t blink without coming across some twink’s bid for fifteen minutes of viral video celebrity and a lifetime of telling the same story at your local gay bar about the one time you got three million YouTube views from dancing in your mom’s shower to Britney Spears. It was the late 2000s, and everything seemed possible, which is why I don’t understand why this particular homage to Shakira’s “She Wolf” never even broke 100,000 views:
Last night, I had the distinct pleasure of getting to introduce several of my officemates to the seminal 1975 documentary (and personal favorite) Grey Gardens, so naturally I had to have a Grey Gardens themed post today. It’s the best blog costume for the day, really.
Anyways, I’d hoped to find some footage of Little Edie’s cabaret act, but that sadly doesn’t seem to exist, so instead I found this video that purports to be Little Edie dancing for Barbara Walters. It’s not quite what it sounds like, but what it is totally insane and otherwise best left unspoilt.
The language is unexpectedly salty, so grab a basket of chips and vinegar and throw on your headphones, because even thought it’s a little NSFW, this hump-day treat is positively delicious:
My most favorite thing about Ann-Margret (other than, well, everything) is that she’s the rare star whose entire career is a triumph of naive camp. Just look at her, and look at those two dancers behind her, and tell me they’re all not screaming “YASSS, ANN-MARGRET, YASSSSS!”…with their eyes.
Sure, other actresses slip into camp from time to time like it’s a luxuriously beaded chemise, but Ann-Margret is that beaded chemise, plus an abundantly thrusty sexuality I might blame on a low blood sugar, but most Americans insist is just European. Insulin and exotic are only a few letters apart, after all.
I get that not everything on this blog is goint to be camp, and Carly Rae Jepsen is definitely not camp, but whatever. This music video for “I Really Like You” is terminally delightful in every way, and that’s good enough for a Sunday post:
Ooh, girl. I don’t know about you, but this week has kinda been the worst. The worst! So thank goodness it’s Friday, but more importantly, thank goodness for this GIF of Reese Witherspoon’s sweet, sweet dance moves! Really, it’s the perfect aloe when a brutal week has left your ass chapped.
Get it, Reese Witherspoon! And get it, all of us! It’s Friday, and we’ve earned it!
I think it’s safe to say that our collective Sia love dates back to when her song “Breathe Me” brought all the tears to the finale of Six Feet Under, but I can’t help but feel that our collective Sia love is about to go into overdrive. The video for “Chandelier” as become a viral sensation, and her new album 1000 Forms of Fear is out today AND IT’S GREAT. I may be too old to know what an Arianna Grande is (though if it tastes like a pumpkin spice latte, I’ll make it a Venti), but we’re never too old for the Summer of Sia, and here’s her live performance on Jimmy Kimmel Live of “Elastic Heart” to prove it: (more…)
Call me Lermontov, but Greta Gerwig is so charming that I want her to never stop dancing, ever. She could be like the indie darling Victoria Page, except without that tragic mess with the train. But I digress…
The YouTube Music Awards aired this past Sunday, and I missed them. Mostly because I tend to spend my Sundays in the company of lesbians, but also because I’m an Old who does not like change. Besides, the Crotchety Old Queen Prevention Hotline (1-888-NO-BITCH) stopped taking my calls, so I can’t afford yet another award show leaving me bewildered by the popular zeitgeist. Nope and no thank you! Now fetch me my vegan and gluten-free prune juice!
Anyways, I nevertheless tracked down Arcade Fire’s performance, because when I’m not being an old lesbian, I’m being an old lesbian hipster. Greta Gerwig dances, Spike Jonze directs, and while it might sound like an all-you-can-twee buffet, it’s really quite delightful:
While I largely try and keep politics out of this little corner of the internet, I do believe President Barack Obama’s re-election is cause to celebrate, and what better way to celebrate than with a patriotic dance? Take us home, Little Edie! Take us home!
While not as enchanting as Lane “Belt Buckle o’ Beef” Pryce’s erotically charged Dance of No Veils (sit down, Salome!), Peggy Olson’s variation on the Twist (let’s call it the Hot ‘n Awkard) with her pinko-rag-writing boyfriend Abe Drexler is certainly the most hypnotic Mad Men GIF since Peggy rode that motorcycle. Really, those moves: so socially anxious, and so hot right now! (“Now” being 1966, of course, though I hear vintage is in this season.) Besides, if nothing else, it’s nice to see I’m not the only one who dances like they’re in desperate need of a neck brace. Dance, Peggy, dance! Shake, Abe, shake! And for the love of those fabulous window treatments, DON’T SPILL THAT MARTINI!
There are many a marvelous Mad Men GIF, for sure. Pete Campbell dancing and Peggy on a motorcycle come to mind, as well as homemade favorites like Sally’s sweet potato tantrum from the fourth season premiere and Peggy’s infinite faceplant. Still, Lane Pryce dancing GIF trumps all because it’s Lane Pryce’s reenacting Megan Draper’s “Zou Bisou Bisou” birthday burlesque. You simply can’t top Lane “Steaks ‘r Accessories” Pryce attempting a sensual French Canadian dance of seduction, y’all. PUT A WIG ON IT AND GIVE IT A DRAG ACT!
I’m sorry, maybe it’s the beast of a week I’ve had, or maybe just me being that queen (very likely), but this video is an utter and absolute delight! I mean, Irene Cara’s “Flashdance…What a Feeling”! Who doesn’t love that song? (Nobody.) And Joan Crawford dancing! Who doesn’t delight in Joan Crawford dancing? (Bette Davis, Christina Crawford, fools who refuse the imperative to dance.) My point is that this video’s as marvelous a salve to the week as it is a start to the weekend. And best of all:
You might think Black Tank Top’s having all the fun (check out her cool dance moves! Arms! Head bops! ARMS! COOL MOVES, GIRLFRIEND!!!), but you’d be wrong! It’s actually Red Polo that’s winning this outdoor rave. Seriously. He’s killing it like a zombie. Here, just take a look, and you’ll see what I’m talking about:
These ladies (and gents!) have got it down, y’all. Not only is this song the catchiest earworm this side of an Ashlee Simpson single, but the dancing is exquisitely Nomi Malone. And by that, I mean they’re all pelvic thrust.
Well this nine-year-old’s ability to work it brings great shame to the rest of us for not working it more during our obviously misspent youth, but who cares? This video’s a glorious jolt of fabulosity to brighten our Friday, and as far as I’m concerned, no Friday is complete without ample strut and shimmy and FACE. WORK IT, QUEEN!
Meet Rick. Rick hails from Arizona, and he has visited the adults-only resort Hedonism II some forty times for the “wild women” and the “rippin’ and the tearin'” (whatever that means, though on second thought, don’t tell me). Ladies and gentleman, Rick would like to do a dance of seduction for you, a dance so undeniably erotic that once it is witnessed, it can never be unseen:
Martha Stewart’s talk show films a block away from where I work. Sometimes when I’m walking to work in the morning, I’ll pass the queue of people waiting to see a live taping, and I always tell myself I should try and get tickets for a taping, but then I never do.
So naturally, this video of Martha Stewart fills me with regret. So much regret:
That said, just because I didn’t see this in person doesn’t mean that my reaction is any different than it is right now:
Sure, we’ve been over this again and again and again, but even broken records are worth repeating every once and a while:
Honestly, it’s perfect in every way, and the only problem I’ve ever had in regarding Showgirls as the crown jewel of camp cinematic masterpieces is that it’s never achieved a Rocky-Horror-Picture-Show level of midnight movie cult status. Rocky Horror Picture Show, with its sing-a-longs and toilet-paper-throwing and audience shout-outs, embraces full-on audience participation; on the other hand, despite being 131 minutes of bare breasts and bitchery, the Showgirls audience has always struck me as relatively demure.
Yes, seeing Showgirls on the big screen is comparable to a religious experience, so a certain amount of reverential silence is to be expected. That, and I WILL shove a bitch down a flight of stairs if they start talking over any of that sublime Joe Eszterhas dialogue:
But Showgirls is also the sort of cinemagic that deserves more than just the knowing laughter of camp appreciation. No no, seeing Showgirls on the big screen should be like watching Stardust Hotel’s Goddess while tripping balls on crazy pills. So, in honor of the IFC Center screening Showgirls as this weekend’s midnight movie, here are a few suggestions on how to make your next midnight movie screening of Showgirls something extraordinary:
He is NOT to be trusted. First he will replace the world’s interns and personal assistants by winning your trust when he brings you your half-caff soy latte just the way you like it, then he will be use his built-in milk-steamer/laser-canon to exterminate you and your coworkers during the robot uprising. Duh.
That said, Asimo has nothing on this monstrosity from the Sixth Annual ROBO-ONE GATE IN INTERNATIONAL ROBOT EXHIBITION 2009 Dance Competition. She’s basically the dead-eyed posterbot of my waking nightmares:
Nobody Puts Baby in a Horner 
